


you go, i follow

by orphan_account



Series: Merlin Random Writing/Drabble Series [14]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-07
Updated: 2014-03-07
Packaged: 2018-01-14 22:25:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1281019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin tells Art one of her secrets.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you go, i follow

**Author's Note:**

> I've got some stuff unposted but finished (for drabbles, that is) so here you are.

There’s a point in their relationship in which Merlin withdraws; growing up hiding being magic left its mark, and left its mark deeply. The dark of a lie and the necessity of a secret are two things that come naturally to her, and for all that she’s shameless and has a mouth like a hooligan at worst and no manners to speak of, it still takes Arthur four months into their relationship for Merlin to say, wrecked, into the softness behind Art’s ear, against sweaty strands of hair, that she wants to be fucked like a common whore on a strap-on by Art.

It’s one of Merlin’s secrets, Art knows, because Merlin knows of Art’s profound insecurity, hidden underneath thick steel armours and electric barbed wire to keep those out that shouldn’t see, which is everyone except for Merlin, Morgana, occasionally Gwen, and rarely Uther; for whereas Art favours the feminine gender, Merlin’s interested in both men and women. The thought that Art mightn’t be enough for Merlin is a shamefully, deeply hurtful one, and they settle the matter with excessive alcohol and Art, grimacing, tightening the strap-on securely around herself before shoving into Merlin furiously until she’s got her sobbing Art’s name like it’s the only word left in her vocabulary wetly, desperately, into the heat of Art’s palm.

Sometimes Merlin jokes if Art’d been a man she’d have despaired, because for a woman Art is unusually emotionally stunted. In a rare moment of dislike, Morgana knocks sense back into Merlin’s head, snapping that it’s not a thing of gender but of personality: Art comes with the emotional range of a teaspoon as she’s fond of saying, and if Merlin isn’t all right with that, she knows where the door is. Morgana leaves after this, saying Merlin ought to get her shit straightened out, and as the door closes behind her Art and Merlin collapse into fits of laughter. It’s not that they don’t understand the sincerity and rightness of Morgana’s statement, but Morgana’s never really understood Merlin’s messed-up, questionable sense of humour, which is something so uniquely Merlin it makes Art smile, affectionately, when no one is looking.

It’s just one of the things that come with the package that is Merlin, and Art doesn’t want it any other way. For the disaster Merlin is, Art doesn’t ever want her to change. The Merlin-shaped mould in the flesh of her ribcage is so vital to the correct functioning of all things inside her chest by now, after three years, that Art knows something she wouldn’t ever say voluntarily: Merlin is her heart, her dark and light for good and bad, and wherever she is to go, Art would follow.


End file.
